
Tuesday,
April 18, 2000

Michigan
fishing on the brink of a boom
Trophy fish fueling more
tourist dollars

By
Jeremy Pearce / The Detroit News
BALDWIN
-- His boat drifting down Michigan's Pere Marquette River, fishing
guide Ed Nemanic lifted his dripping oars and studied the tea-colored
water beneath him.
Dark shapes, nearly as long as the guide's legs, hovered
in the current. Nemanic dropped anchor.
"Steelhead," he said, without taking his eyes from
the water.
"We've had whole years when you couldn't buy a fish
on this river -- freaky seasons," he said, readying his fly rod. "But
look at us now."
After troubled years that brought mediocre fishing,
rampant salmon disease and lower fish numbers during the 1990s, Michigan's
lake salmon and trout may be on the verge of a boom time.
Huge increases are reported in trophy-sized steelhead
trout, coho and chinook salmon, good advertising in efforts to lure
more anglers, and their wallets, to Michigan waters. Fishing is an important
link in Michigan's recreation economy. The state's fishery ranks eighth
among U.S. states and yields $1.5 billion each year, according to a
U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service survey taken two years ago.
"That includes licenses, tackle, travel, food
and lodging. And it likely increased in value since then," said Thomas
Coon of Michigan State University's fisheries and wildlife department.
The numbers of big fish caught last year and verified
by state officials are surprising both anglers and biologists:
-- A leap in coho salmon, mostly from Lake Michigan,
has astonished lake-watchers. Some 699 cohos weighing more than 12 pounds
were caught last year. No coho of similar size was recorded the previous
year.
-- Numbers of trophy chinook salmon more than tripled.
Anglers on Lakes Huron and Michigan hooked 216 fish weighing at least
27 pounds. The biggest chinook reached 40 pounds. The seasonal total in
1998 was 70 trophy fish.
-- Big steelhead, a form of lake-dwelling rainbow trout,
also reached record levels. Traveling from Lake Michigan into the Pere
Marquette, Muskegon, St. Joseph and other fabled rivers, the largest steelhead
topped 22 pounds. More than 70 fish weighed more than 17 pounds, the benchmark
for trophy status. Only 11 steelhead reached that weight the previous
year.
"We had a banner year, a wonderful year," said Cameron
Garst, a professional charter captain who runs fishing trips into Lake
Michigan from Traverse City. "We can only hope this year goes nearly as
well."
Food supply plentiful
Reasons for the wave of bigger fish are not yet clear.
Despite gains for steelhead, coho and chinook, other lake-dwelling fish
within the salmon family didn't fare so well.
For example, numbers of large lake trout declined by
16 percent, from 79 trophy lakers caught in 1998 to some 66 fish last
year. Catches of large brown trout, another salmon relation, rose slightly.
Yet a consensus among lake scientists credits a bumper
year in alewives -- smaller fish recognized as a key food among salmon
and other game fish -- for the sudden gain in weights and sizes.
"We had an abundance of alewives last year. Dead alewives
littered Lake Michigan's beaches and salmon gorged on them," said Gerald
Rakoczy, a Michigan Department of Natural Resources biologist from Charlevoix.
He monitors fish catches statewide. "By the same token, populations of
alewives were their lowest in the mid-1990s, the very years that we saw
our poorest salmon fishing."
Disease lowered numbers
Other experts add that closer control of bacterial kidney
disease, which still plagues salmon stocks and destroys uncounted thousands
of fish, has combined with the extra food to help nurture bigger fish.
Bacterial kidney disease attacks the kidneys, liver
and spleen, consuming organs and causing fish to lose weight and scales.
Scientists believe that stress and lack of food advance the disease. Most
die from it.
In 1995, it was estimated that 30 percent of Lake Michigan
salmon carried the disease, which is inherited and reportedly poses no
health threat to anglers.
In the early 1990s, at the disease's height, fisheries
workers culled as many diseased fish as they could find when salmon appeared
at river dams. Today, Department of Natural Resources biologists say less
than 10 percent of Michigan's salmon are affected.
"We're still concerned about it, but bacterial kidney
disease has become much less pressing a problem," said John Schrouder
of the Department of Natural Resources' fisheries division.
State restocks rivers
Great Lakes coho, chinook, steelhead and many lake trout
are united by their behavior and common ancestors. All four species begin
their lives in rivers, and later leave those native rivers to head for
deeper lake waters.
The journey to the lake depths has perils and tremendous
rewards: schools of minnows, suckers, herring, alewives and smaller fish
that offer richer food than do narrow inland rivers. As a result, trout
and salmon rapidly increase in size and grow to maturity. They can remain
in the lakes for a span of two to five years.
When it comes time to reproduce, instinct urges them
back to the rivers from which they started.
Coho and chinook make their way upstream, lay or fertilize
their eggs, weaken and eventually die. Generous stocking of millions of
young fish by state and federal hatcheries each year is necessary to ensure
enough fish for anglers.
"We know that more than 99 percent of (coho and chinook)
die after that first spawning," said Dr. Gerald R. Smith, curator of fishes
at the University of Michigan's Museum of Zoology in Ann Arbor.
Lake trout and steelhead, however, usually survive to
spawn again. Recent, severe declines in Great Lakes levels haven't yet
interrupted their passage through connecting rivers and the lakes. Lake
experts say that drops would have to exceed four feet before severely
pinching fish runs. This month, Lake Michigan remains 18 inches below
the level measured last April.
On the Pere Marquette, fishing guide Nemanic, 59, a
retired physics professor, works by a different standard of value.
Although he depends on dollars from angler-clients who
arrive from throughout the Midwest to fish the famous river, the sight
of so many steelhead this season has been a form of payment in itself.
"There have been days when I've wondered if every fish
hasn't gone out to lunch in Lake Michigan," he said, adjusting his sunglasses
to tie a fresh fly on his fishing line.
"Not this year," he said. "This has been one hell of
a good year."


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